


dark dye

by deepnest



Category: Hollow Knight (Video Games)
Genre: Art as coping mechanism, Family Bonding, Gen, Post-Game(s), Recovery, Sibling Bonding, The Knight and THK Have New Names
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-01-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:09:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22370005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deepnest/pseuds/deepnest
Summary: They lounged. The room was cool and dark and quiet. Their finger tapped on the stone, matching the rhythm of Hornet's work, until they caught themself. But they always started again, not even realizing they had until they made themself stop. Finally, they made a fist, and pressed it to the floor.They thought: the Hollow Knight, lounging. Drinking tea and having family.Thinking.This was everything that should not be.
Relationships: Hornet & The Knight (Hollow Knight), The Hollow Knight | Pure Vessel & Hornet, The Hollow Knight | Pure Vessel & Hornet & The Knight, The Hollow Knight | Pure Vessel & The Knight
Comments: 13
Kudos: 225





	dark dye

**Author's Note:**

> Alternate summary: THK has a bad trauma/pain day. Many of us have been there, I think.
> 
> So uh. I was trying to keep a rough sequence for all of these but that didn't quite work. so two things:
> 
> 1\. This is set somewhat later in the "post-everything" timeline I'm considering, not like... right after they settle in. They've all had some time to get used to each other.
> 
> 2\. THK and Ghost get names! They chose these names. They are in fact Hive names like Hornet's, because of Hornet. Because she's the family they choose, the sister they respect and admire! 
> 
> I couldn't find any English names I liked though, so I grabbed partial scientific names.
> 
> Ghost is Polybia (after a kind of wasp that establishes a nest as part of a group) and THK is Abispa (after a kind of large solitary wasp, but that's just because… it sounds vaguely like a setting-appropriate name and also I think once they're not Isolated they're still pretty quiet and don't mind being alone as long as they can choose to go to someone else).
> 
> also shoutout to the Hollow Knight Stans Only discord for taking a look before I posted this!
> 
> Warnings for: canon-typical body horror, mild emetophobia, trauma

It was a bad morning. Abispa had context for this now.

There were good mornings. Mornings when they woke easily, and their body moved readily under their own power. 

This was a bad morning. Their body was stiff, and their joints were almost too heavy to lift. Their side ached, the shell throbbed whenever they tried to move. Nestled tightly in their blankets, the weight was no longer a comfort. It grew oppressive, holding them down in their nightmares. They kept sliding back.

 _Shell going soft, soft and fragile. Rotting. Splitting. They grab at their torso but the chains_ \-- weren't there. Their hand clamped over their midsection, and the scars seared, like fire, like -- _the light blazing in Hornet's eyes, stained orange, like the light glinting off of the tip of her needle, aimed at the heart of them, and all they can do is throw themself_ \-- into the wall of what used to be an elevator, now their room, now their -- _fate. No. No. Not_ them _, not, no-_

_But there is Polybia. Chains tight around their small body. And only a faint glimmer of light in their eyes, as if distant, but for them to show even that much, soon their shell, too, will go soft. Soft and fragile. And then they will rot._

When Abispa finally clawed their way out of their room, the first thing they did was check Polybia's. Their sibling had prepared an elaborate nest, a little suite, really: claiming the openings of three stag tunnels and carving out holes large enough to crawl through in the walls between them. Spaces for sleeping, for activity, and for storage. 

Abispa knocked beside each one. No answer. 

They swept back the curtains. Peered in to search among the cushions and trinkets. 

Polybia wasn't there. 

_No! No-_ Abispa's claws tangled in the final curtain. They nearly tore it off. Where was Polybia? Where was their small sibling? Where? _Where?_

Somewhere else. They forced their fingers open. Polybia still wandered often, and they could defend themself it they had to. Of course, they were only wandering. _Perhaps they had gone to visit-_

It was a bad morning. Abispa knew where Polybia had gone. Abispa was meant to have gone, too. They had both planned to visit Sheo and the Nailsmith that morning, and Polybia had no doubt gone on ahead. So they were fine. No doubt. Except that, as the day went on and Abispa never arrived, Polybia would worry. Abispa knew this. 

Just as much, they knew they had no chance of following after. They were barely able to make the jump over their room, to land before the threshold to Hornet's.

They couldn't be in their own room, not now, not after all but fighting their way out of it. They couldn't go out. They could have waited for their sibling's return in the central platform, and they likely would, but they just wanted to see Hornet. She would certainly know Polybia's whereabouts. They were with Sheo, no doubt. No doubt. But Hornet would know, would be able to confirm this.

They had to stop and gather themself before they knocked. Hornet drew back the certain over the entrance soon after. "Yes?"

Hornet was there. She was there. They were not alone. They hadn't understood the extent of their own worry - almost terror - until relief flooded them. They could hardly stand it, such relief. They could hardly stand. They were going to be sick. That was a real possibility. They braced their hand on the wall.

Hornet said, "If you're looking for Polybia, they left some time ago. You can still join them, I'm sure." 

Abispa caught the curtain with one hand, and pulled it just a little wider. 

She looked them over once. She made no secret of it. They watched her gaze linger on their hand supporting them, the weak sloping of their shoulders. 

She eased back into the tunnel. "Alright. Come in." 

They should have gone back to the central platform. Instead, they crawled into Hornet's room after her, and tucked themself against one wall, careful of the tapestry hanging above them. She sat back down at her work: bundles of silk, some soaking in vats of dye, some hanging on a rack for drying. One bundle waited on a mat before her, there to catch the excess dye. It would wait a little longer. They still had her attention.

She asked, "Did you need something?" 

They shook their head. Nothing she hadn't already given, at least.

"Are you feeling unwell?"

A nod, this time, and then they let their head fall back against the wall, resting on their horns. 

"You may stay, then. Although I'm afraid I won't be very good company."

They nodded again. They weren't even sure if they wanted company. Just presence. 

Hornet worked in silence. All of her movements were practiced, rhythmic. She leaned in as she worked her silk: wringing it, stretching it out to dry. They leaned forward, too, watching intently. She was so precise always, but they were not sure they had ever seen her be so delicate. When a batch was ready, she pulled it from the rack and spooled it. This was the only sound, the rush of winding silk. Gentle. Mesmerizing. 

It lulled them, after their poor sleep. The room blurred. They caught their mask in their hand, and-

Their head cracked against the low ceiling. Their mask pulsed from the blow, and they doubled over into their lap, grasping at their own face. Their chest heaved. The ache had been so close to settling into a low burn, easy to ignore, but now their own shell stabbed them again and again. The dream was fading already, but there was something - something. Chains again. Singing. _Her_ singing, the voice that blazed.

"Abispa!" 

They looked up to find Hornet's mask by theirs. Her hand brushed the shell, just skirting the edges of the crack in it. It seemed no worse than before. She stepped back, but her chin tipped up, her gaze staying fixed on them. 

"I am sorry. You fell asleep, but perhaps I should have roused you."

They did not affirm or reject the idea. They settled back on the wall again, heavily. They collapsed, really. She took them in again. Always assessing, their sister. Always making choices. 

She said, "Wait here."

They watched her as she left. Always, she assessed them. They wondered when she would find them wanting. When she would decide they were too much of a burden, and did not deserve to shelter here.

They tucked their head to their chest, and tried to focus on breathing. Tried to. Their mind worked against them. It tugged at the frayed edges of their last nightmare, half-remembered. The singing. Her voice, blazing. 

They did not often dream of her. They dreamed of symptoms, or events. Real and unreal. 

_The quarantined city, the panicked pounding at the gates, filtered through their sense of the world. Arriving at Sheo's home to find only puddles of orange and fragments of carapace. Wet_ snap _of breaking shell,_ thud _of their arm onto the vault's floor before it melted into void. Polybia embracing the Hollow Knight's fate, knowing the chains, bearing the weight of the seals._

But her voice. They remembered her voice now. Singing. Screaming. The sound of her rage carving its way through their throat.

Their hand found their mask again. A single claw worried the crack. 

"Be careful. You'll worsen it."

They were unaware of Hornet's return until she was right in front of them. They ducked their head, and quickly pressed their hand flat over their lap.

"You needn't be sorry. Here."

She set down a lumpy package of silk on the floor between them. Then she sat down behind it, and cut through the wrappings. A kettle of tea, which had been bound carefully to prevent spilling, and a cup and a bowl, which had been cushioned for her jump from the elevator. 

They stared at her as she poured, but her actions didn't really register until she offered them a bowl of tea. They took it, and stared into its depths. 

"Mossbloom," she said. "You enjoy it particularly, yes?"

They were still, at first. Then they looked up at her, and tilted their head.

"Yes. I remember."

To answer her question, they drained half of the bowl in one long draught. She nodded, and undid her mask to set it aside. She took only a sip of her own, before standing again. She gathered cushions from a pile in the corner, below her hammock. She arranged these next to them. 

"You should lie down. You do not have to sleep, but rest." 

Their side still ached. This was true. Sitting stiff and hunched over was not helping. They took her advice, and there was some improvement at once - there was the echo of pain that somehow meant relief.

Hornet slid their bowl into easy reach, and then sat cross-legged, with her own tea held loosely over her lap. She took another sip, and closed her eyes. Then she set her cup down, and resumed her work. She did poorly without something to busy her hands. 

They drank tea. They leaned on cushions in their sister's room. They lounged, in fact. 

They lounged. The room was cool and dark and quiet. Their finger tapped on the stone, matching the rhythm of Hornet's work, until they caught themself. But they always started again, not even realizing they had until they made themself stop. Finally, they made a fist, and pressed it to the floor. 

They thought: the Hollow Knight, lounging. Drinking tea and having family. _Thinking._ This was everything that should not be. 

Perhaps it wasn't.

Her blazing voice rang, remembered. She had shown them things. Things they wanted. Once she had heard them, one single thought stirring the void, it had been easy for her. She had so little else to do, and the mind of a wyrmspawn was such a straightforward tool, easily melted and reforged and dulled.

Their hand shook. They uncurled it and reached out for their bowl. They took a sip of tea. It was bitter. Thin. 

She had never shown them anything like this. She had taken some pleasure in overwhelming them. Everything was sweet, new, sickening.

_The infection smothered in the prison of their body, freedom for them, at last, and glory fit for the finest knight - all of it unraveled into visions of Hallownest as it truly was. A celebratory feast rotted into bright bile in their mouth. A caress from Father's claws, his welcoming arms, became her burning embrace._

But more than their mere torment, it was the acknowledgment she delighted in. When they thrashed in their bindings. When they wept tears like tar. And when their body was, finally, more her possession than their own, mere trembling was sometimes enough.

They _felt_ inescapably at her whims, until it overflowed and poured out of them, their body giving out and giving up and burning burning **burning** and they clawed at their mask and they didn't expect to be able to reach, so when their hand connected it cut into the shell.

"Abispa-" 

The Hollow Knight did not understand. 

"Abispa?" More urgently. 

They looked up at - Hornet. Sister.

Hornet, who was calling to them, softly. Calling their name. They had a name. 

_She_ had never have conjured a name for them. She had never conjured a sister. No tea, no cushions, no cool or dark or quiet. 

They held out their hand. It was still shaking, but Hornet took it between both of hers, squeezing their palm. This couldn't have been a dream. It was infinitely better than anything anyone, included themself, could have thought to desire. The Radiance couldn't have plucked from them what they'd never imagined. 

When Hornet again reached the point where she was ready to spool her silk, she paused. She placed the spool on the floor in front of them. They stared at it.

She asked, "Will you help me?"

They gulped down the rest of their tea. They nodded.

"Turn this, please. I will hold the silk so that it winds." 

It was simple work, just enough to keep them occupied. They spun their hand, and it was clear that Hornet was letting them set the pace now, slower than she would have gone. But if she was impatient, she kept it hidden even without her mask. She adjusted the position of the thread occasionally, guiding it up or down according to the thickness of the spool. They adjusted their grip when they needed, and she insisted that they pause sometimes to stretch their hand. 

"Just so," she said, when they were done and she examined their work. "Would you like to begin the next?"

They nodded quickly, and she prepared it for them. They were halfway through when a rapid knocking echoed from down the tunnel. Hornet didn't move, just called, "You may come in, Polybia." 

She was unconcerned. If it wasn't Polybia, then whoever it was would find they had bitten off more than they could swallow, or else the siblings would have a problem that keeping the intruder out of one room wouldn't have solved. 

The soft rush of cloak and shadow approaching resolved any concerns. Polybia hopped down into the room a moment later, and made one last dash up to Abispa's side.

Abispa lowered their head, and Polybia lifted theirs. They both bumped their masks together. 

Hornet asked, "Welcome back. How did your visit go?"

Polybia fished out a scrap of silk paper from their cloak in response. The surface was covered in aimless lines and swirls, color rambling thoughtlessly over color.

"Very distinctive," Hornet said approvingly.

They nodded, but their own art didn't hold their interest for long. When Abispa leaned in to look, Polybia bumped their masks again, inquiring. 

Abispa sank in on themself. Their hand shifted to hold their side. Polybia pressed their mask to Abispa's once more, and lifted their hand to hold it beside the crack. Abispa withdrew enough to nod.

Hornet stood up. "I will bring more tea for you. I did not know you'd be back so soon."

She hadn't even finished speaking before Polybia perked up. They patted Abispa's arm and spun away to snatch up the kettle. It was nearly as large as their body, but they set off back to the elevator with no evident struggle. Their siblings had no time to protest. It seemed they would bring their own tea. 

Hornet watched them go, then laughed softly and sat back down. "And to think, I once thought myself quick. They've taught me better."

Abispa stared at her, and then shook their head earnestly.

She laughed again. "It's alright. I am glad they proved themself my match." She gave them a level look, and then added, "I am glad you were here to assist me today." 

They heard her. They felt. They _felt_ inescapably. But. 

They didn't _want_ to escape. Their chest was tight, and there was fluid pressing around their eyeholes like they were about to weep, and they never wanted to stop feeling like this. How to articulate this feeling? What to call it? They didn't know. They just wished to keep it. 

And after a few moments of silence - of sitting in the cool and dark and quiet with their sister, while their sibling rattling dishes below echoed up faintly - nothing came along to take it. Nothing burned. Their side, faintly. But nothing burned it all away, nothing tore it from their grasp. They were not hanging back in the black vault.

This was no dream. For the first time, it occurred to them: they _could_ keep this. 

They sat up, and reached out to Hornet. Her gaze flicked up to them quickly, and she patted their knuckles. 

A loud clatter announced Polybia's return to the entrance. They emerged a moment later with a new tray, and on it: the kettle, their own cup, thankfully intact, and the small jar of honey Hornet kept.

"So that's what you were after," she observed. "You could have asked." 

They set the tray down in the triangle they completed, and tilted their head at her.

"Of course I would have allowed it. It is to share. As long as no one uses the whole jar at once," she said thoughtfully, "there will be no trouble. Do you mean to use the whole jar, Polybia?"

They shook their head. 

Hornet's chelicerae twitched up, a rare spidery smile. "I thought not." 

Polybia poured themself some tea, and sweetened it to their liking. 

Hornet took a sip of her own forgotten tea. She swallowed the now-cold drink, and couldn't stop herself from pulling a face. She had two knowing gazes on her immediately. 

"Yes, yes," she said. She downed the rest of it in one draught, and poured herself more. She stirred in one spoonful of honey as an incentive. "I will not forget again. Alright?" 

They both nodded. She pushed the kettle over to Abispa, who poured some for themself as well. They ignored the honey entirely. They would rather savor the bitterness. 

Polybia finished quickly their tea quickly. They stood up, and walked over to stand beside Abispa. Polybia traced along the scars in their sibling's shell, and held their gaze. Abispa shook their head, dismissing Polybia's concerns. 

Polybia still stared. Abispa shook their head again, and set their hand between Polybia's horns. Their thumb traced up and down the outer curve, until Polybia was satisfied enough to relax.

The smaller sibling reclaimed their cup, and poured themself more tea. They topped off Abispa's while they had the kettle, and added another generous portion of honey to their own. Then they climbed onto Abispa's lap.

They all drank in silence, until Hornet finished her tea. She grabbed both the spool they had completed and the partial one. Polybia's gaze snapped to her, but she said, "I know. I only have a question. It is about the project I have in mind. Abispa?"

They jolted. Abispa set their bowl down and straightened suddenly, at attention. Polybia steadied themselves, and crossed their arms. She set the silk down in front of Abispa, and held up a hand, a pacifying gesture for both of them. 

She told Abispa, "I only want to know which color you prefer." 

They held her gaze, and then looked down at the silk. There was a deep, elegant red and a blue like lumafly-lit stone. They thought, and then tapped the blue. 

"Thank you," she said. "That will do."

Both siblings tilted their heads at her.

"You have expressed a fondness for tapestries like these." She gestured above their head, at the decoration on the wall behind them. "And I have been weaving more, as of late. thought I would make one for you. This will be the central color." 

Abispa stared at her. They could do nothing else. They had no respond ready; they had too much in their head at once to pick out any one sentiment to express. Finally, and with great deliberation, they plucked Polybia from their lap. They moved the kettle aside, then the jar of honey. They slid into the space where the dishes had been, and bent so their mask rested just above her face.

She stretched up to meet them, and when she accepted their invitation, they wrapped their arm around her. They crushed her close, for just a moment, and then let her back down.

"It's no trouble! You needn't-" Her chelicerae worked furiously, and she pressed a hand over them to hide it, speaking into her shell. "It's no trouble. Truly." 

Their chest shook silently, the shape of a laugh, and they tapped between her horns. 

She cleared her throat, but the sound gave way to her own laughter. She shook her head helplessly, and told Polybia. "You'll have one, too. If you would like, of course." 

They nodded enthusiastically.

"Good." She folded her arms under her cloak. "Now. Since you've both decided that my room is a common area for the evening, you may assist me."

She gestured to the unfinished spool. "Abispa, you know what to do. Please inform Polybia. I will prepare more silk."

Polybia wasn't inclined to complain about more art, after they'd ended their session with Sheo early, and Abispa was happy to teach them. Hornet gathered up the pieces of her own work as her siblings sat down to theirs. They carried on, until Polybia was visibly nodding off.

That night, it was the memory of whispering silk that carried Abispa into their own long, dreamless sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Anyway, I don't know how textiles work.


End file.
